


Outcry

by LazyAyze



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Autism, Chimera Outbreak, Gen, Happy Ending, Irony, PTSD, poor baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-14 08:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyAyze/pseuds/LazyAyze
Summary: The world will always find a way to fuck us over.





	Outcry

Jäger has always had a soft spot in his heart for machines. Ever since he was little, he almost always had his hands on metal and wire, tools and screws, putting together soon-to-be functioning products. Every time he tinkered in the confines of a workshop, it calmed him, relieving him of the stress and pressure of reality.

His favorite thing to work with has always been helicopters. Having his uncle work in the Bundespolizei Aviation Group, he understood from a young age almost everything about the flying metal creatures. They amazed him, sparking a flame inside his chest.

He’s worked on other things, like his famous Magpie and other transportation systems. At Hereford, the rebuilt Spitfire stands as a monument because of his talents.

He learned to fly helicopters too, fulfilling his childhood dreams, loving the feel of his hands over the dash and control panel. Although they’re a bit loud for him, he still feels a warm feeling whenever he hears the copter blades cut through air. Inside every helicopter, he feels like he’s his younger self, exploring the insides of the helicopters his uncle showed him.

Through the glass in front of him, the night sky surrounds him. He’s alone on the copter, which he usually prefers, listening to the whooping of the blades above him. He’s been assigned extraction of the ground operators in the outbreak zone, and to him, it seems simple.

He just has to get them out. No need to get any more involved.

In and _out_.

The outbreak has had everyone in Rainbow on edge, especially those that have to have first hand interaction. He was a bit hesitant to agree to extract, but was still determined to fulfill his duty. Two of the operators in the zone are new to Rainbow, and if they make it, it’ll be the first time Jäger’s met them. Smoke’s with them too, no doubt making them uncomfortable with his love of chaos and dark comments. Once he gets to the extraction zone, which should take about four more minutes or so, he’ll be able to leave this hellish operation behind. Simple.

He flies the helicopter over the decaying buildings and the dying lights of New Mexico. He’s too far up to see any of what he’s heard to be down below. Ash and Tachanka spoke of beasts with tendrils extending from scarred backs, screeching and drooling toxins. In the safety of his helicopter, everything but the blades are quiet, and if he weren’t informed of the dangers below, he’d think there was nothing evil running around down there except Smoke.

The extraction zone is only a minute away now. Everything seems sterile and calm. He isn’t suspecting any encounter. He should be safe within what he’s loved for almost all his life.

How was he supposed to know what he loved would wrong him?

Jäger turns on his comms. “Thirty seconds out from the extraction point. I will-”

Something hits, crashing against the backside of the copter, the rotors above hesitating before they’re torn from the roof. Jäger never saw what hit him, seeing as his body is forced forward into the dash and steer before he can get a look.

When he glances up through the glass, the New Mexican ruins are coming towards him. He reaches for his comms in a panic, eyes wide underneath his helmet.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday!”

The ground and buildings continue to rush towards him.

“I have been hit! Losing altitude-”

His hand slips from the comms, refusing his profanities. He only hears Thermite yell his code name before his headset is torn, ripped from his helmet and vest as the copter collides with the roof of an unsuspecting building. Jäger’s seat belt doesn’t hold him in place as the head of the copter crashes through the roof of the building, launching him through the glass. Pain scorches through his body, most prominently in his leg, as glass and ruble rain down with him. His helmet and body cracks against cement, dust, and rubble, dazing him.

He’s alive?

He wakes, resting on the pile of plaster, metal, and cement, staring up at the head of the copter that threatens to come down on him. He can do nothing, his body feeling extremely drained. There’s warmth running down his temple and hip, the latter piercing his nerves like a knife. He doesn’t understand the entirety of what happened.

Eventually, he pushes himself to sit up, the pain in his hip screaming. He lets out a cry and more swears, breathing shallowly, chest clenching. Through his cracked and tinted helmet, he notices he’s in an auto shop- how ironic- where the environment is too quiet to belong to an outbreak zone.

There is no sound, other than the shifting copter above, looking as if it’s about to slip through the roof and crush him. Through the window in the front of the shop, he can see the back rotors still spinning, creaking eerily. There’s nothing else outside.

Yet.

Jäger wonders how he’s alive, doesn’t understand how the crash didn’t kill him. It takes him awhile to realize he’s alone, and when he does, it’s suddenly harder to breathe.

He doesn’t know if anyone will come for him, if they know where he is, if he’s alive. And if they do come, what happens if he gets them killed?

Jäger sits on rubble, pieces of it poking into his backside and thighs. He puts pressure on his hip, no matter how much it hurts, and does his best to stop the blood flow.

He feels dizzy and weak, and trying to move only intensifies that feeling.

Dust sprinkles around him like snowflakes, the lights hurting his exhausted eyes. He wants to close his eyes and fall asleep, to allay the vigorous pulsing behind his eyes and not face reality. Blood soaks his pants, and soon enough his gloves.

He closes his eyes for a brief minute, speculating if he should lay back down, until they spring back open to the sound of growls and screams. His hands pick up tremors, struggling to hold onto his wound steadily, and his breathing gets worse.

The creaking helicopter above him doesn’t calm him like it used to do. The emptiness of the building doesn’t even soothe him. The gunfire in the distance doesn’t make him react at all.

Outside, below the slowing blades, he sees movement. Tendrils protrude from thin and contorting backs. Red and yellow flash by the barred windows. The cold air and night swallows his fragile figure.

The gunshots are closer. Outside, his fellow operators are yelling, shooting, tearing down the doors. Jäger moans, his heart rate picking up. He hears them just outside, wanting them to hurry up and break in.

He cries out, desperate.

When the first barricade is knocked down, Smoke and one of the new operators greet him. They’re both cad in hazmat suits, sparking the realization into Jager that he could be contaminated by now. Underneath his helmet, he starts to silently cry.

Smoke turns around and covers a female operator who backs into the building, upper bodies jolting as they disperse their ammo into the unknown. Finka reloads, running into the safety of the building, nodding at Smoke to barricade.

Next to him, Lion gets down onto his knees next to him, asking if he’s alright.

It’s a stupid question, but Lion gets his answer when Jäger moans again, breaths quick and painful.

The three operators return fire to the beats, hurting the weak man’s ears. Flashes of red and yellow surround the auto shop, lashing out, trying to kill them all. Jäger, struggling to still sit up right, holds onto his wound, blood soaking the rubble beneath him and his pale hands underneath his gloves.

Time passes. All the beasts in the area are terminated.

Finka does her best to heal him with what she has, consoling him like a child. Under Smoke’s tinted mask, he’s no doubt giving a reassuring smile no one can see, his gruff voice cracking small jokes and sarcasm that Jäger finds _especially_ hard to understand during the depleting madness. Lion hefts him up and helps walk him outside the building, each step causing searing pain to rip through his muscles, skin, and nerves. The lights of the upcoming helicopter that shines down on them make him squint and the blades are unbearably loud.

As the copter lowers, Jäger’s breathing is obviously unsteady. He drops his head- it’s too heavy to hold up anymore. Lion reassures him, his french accent telling him to remain calm. He squeezes he German too, but everything other than his leg is numb. He shifts his feet to the best of his ability, trying to stand comfortable, but it seems that safety still seems distant to him.

When the copter touches ground, that’s when Jäger loses it.

Jäger’s put under on painkillers so they can actually get him on the mechanical nightmare, his tears now visible after Doc removes his helmet. His mind muddled, they get him onto the flying beast that he now fears.

When Jäger finally wakes up, he realizes he’s now considered a monster for the time being. He’s locked away in isolation, threatening the public as they don’t know if he’s contaminated or not. In isolation, he finally breaks down, slamming his already injured head against the wall behind him and crying out, yelling for help. In the back of his mind, he knows there’s one way glass across the room, and that whoever's on the other side is watching him, watching him act inhuman.

He’s never gotten used to the difference he faced growing up.

It takes hours for them to determine if he’s contaminated; He hasn’t sprouted spikes or convulsed into a beast and they’ve taken several tests, so they find he’s safe, no toxins in his circulatory system somehow. A miracle maybe? Fuck that. He’s safe, but they still keep him in isolation. He doesn’t understand why, as per usual.

When the cure’s finally created by Dr. Mackintosh, he’s given the vaccination, finally released, and able to go back to London. Solemnly, he returns with the other Outbreak operators, Lion by his side the majority of the time. He walks with crutches, a bandage tightly wrapped around his stitched hip and upper thigh. His GSG9 members find him in the medical wing, purple and red rimming his eyes, his hair dirty and uncombed, no smile to be seen for weeks to come.

He’s different now.

He can’t sleep without being launched back through glass, helmet cracking against rubble. He can’t find peace when there’s always screams and grunts pulling him away.

Jäger doesn’t want to be alone. He follows those he trusts everywhere they go, afraid to be alone and left in the dark with unknown dangers. Six has ordered him off duty for two months and to have therapy sessions for longer. He lays with IQ in her bed most nights, staring at the wall with hands running through his greasy hair and massaging his back until she falls asleep. Then, he stays awake until her 6:30 alarm unless his body shuts down for him, sometimes waking her up in the middle of the night with his cries. He’s slept with Blitz and Bandit too, both eager to console him when needed.

Jäger refuses, however, to go to the workshop. He doesn’t want to see anything relating to helicopters. He refuses to walk by the Spitfire he restored. The idea of flying or driving any vehicles, mostly helicopters, has betrayed him. Their warm nature is now a lie to him. He doesn’t float away from reality anymore when he works, but instead remembers the gunshots and the taunting head above him threatening to fall down onto him. His special interest is now chaos to him.

For months he didn't act the same. That's just what trauma does to a person.

After months of therapy and coercing, a certain Uzbek gently pulls him into the workshop. He sets him down on a stool, careful to not scare him away with banging of metal or a sharp tool. He talks him through touching the metal, working with wires and bolts. Fuze walks him through his nightmare.

From the doorway, Twitch, IQ, Blitz, and Bandit may watch. Small smiles pull at their lips every time they find him in the workshop.

Eventually, Fuze gets him back into the works, slowly but surely. His fingers start to swiftly connect wires, he steadily holds torches and screwdrivers. Jäger touches the cool metal hulls of helicopters once for the first time in a while. It pulls him away from reality again, but the fear lingers backstage.

Deep inside, he still cries.

**Author's Note:**

> Me tumblr is https://ayezeeismee.tumblr.com


End file.
